Regardless of the saying, all press was not good press.
Lacey juggled the groceries in her arms while inching toward the cashier. She’d been in the hotel for what felt like forever already and had eaten as many meals out as she could stomach. Thankfully her room had a tiny efficiency kitchen, or she’d completely lose her mind. She might not be able to cook meals like the one’s she gotten used to eating at Rex’s, thanks to his personal chef, but she wasn’t starving either.
She’d kept herself busy since leaving Rex and his crazy Hollywood lifestyle behind. Hours were spent job searching, applying, networking with her contacts, and trying not to beg for a chance at another job. The possibility of something coming through soon was good, but not good enough to stop her from continuing the search.
No matter how busy she was, her mind still wandered to Rex—wondering how he was, if he was safe, if he missed her, then cursing herself for caring.
She couldn’t be with a man who didn’t respect her entirely. Sure, their relationship had been hot in the bedroom and comfortable in each other’s company, but when it came to work, he expected respect for his career but couldn’t reciprocate. That bothered her on a professional level, but even more on a personal one. She’d confided in Rex, let down her guard around him because he’d made her feel safe. When he still couldn’t trust her, even with how close they’d grown together, it was her breaking point. She couldn’t be with someone who didn’t fully accept her for who she was.
She’d made a mistake by mixing work and pleasure. It was no wonder that he hadn’t taken her job seriously when he’d had her on her knees or in his bed with very little resistance on her part.
“Hey, lady. Are you checking out or not?” The guy behind her in line rustled his basket.
She mumbled a quick apology then stepped forward with the line. She’d been distracted and unfocused lately. Normally she knew her surroundings down to the tiniest of details. Now she barely knew what store she was in.
As she placed her items on the counter, she forced her eyes not to stray to the magazine covers beckoning her. It was almost impossible to avoid seeing Rex’s face. He was everywhere all the time.
“That idiot’s going to get himself sued.” The guy behind her spoke again.
“I’m sorry. Were you talking to me?” she asked. She hadn’t slept well since she’d left Rex’s house. The hotel bed wasn’t as comfortable as the one she’d gotten used to at his place, nor could she stop thinking about him. When she did finally drift off, she dreamed of them together. If she’d thought she was sleep deprived before, it was nothing compared to the exhaustion she felt now.
“Some people think they can do whatever they want without any repercussions. I hope he gets what he deserves,” the guy said.
“I think I missed something.”
“This guy,” he said pointing to one of the covers she’d been trying so hard to avoid.
Oh no.
She couldn’t bear to see Rex’s charming smile, or sexy glint in his eye, or his gorgeously broad shoulders filling out a shirt. She didn’t want to remember when he’d sent that smile her direction as they laughed together. Or when that sexy fire in his eyes had been for her. Or how his naked chest felt under her fingertips.
She didn’t want to relive any of that. It was too painful. She missed all of it too much. She missed him.
But this magazine cover was not at all what she’d feared she’d see. It was so much worse. Rex was on the cover—punching a reporter in the face. The headline was even worse than the image. “Rex Randall Attacks!”
Instinctively grabbing a copy, she flipped to the story. “This is terrible.” There were more photos to accompany the article. Pictures of Rex striking the photographer from different angles, a close up of his angry expression, and his new bodyguard attempting, but failing, to help him through the crowd. “Only Todd would let this happen.” He was one of the worst security personnel she’d ever had the misfortune of working with. And now he was Rex’s sole protector. Not good.
“Can you believe that guy? Too bad those photographers didn’t turn and beat the snot out of him. Now that would’ve been a story. These celebrities think…”
The man continued talking but Lacey wasn’t listening. She couldn’t hear anything beyond her own thoughts. She had to call Gabe and tell him Todd was a shitty bodyguard. She could give him a few suggestions for better people to hire.
Then she needed to get back to her job search. No matter what happened, Lacey couldn’t go back to being Rex’s bodyguard. Every time she so much as thought about Rex, the lump in her chest felt as if it were going to crumble into a million shards of heartache that could never be repaired. She didn’t know how to stop that from happening other than by completely avoiding him. The sooner she got a new job assignment, hopefully far away, the sooner she hoped to feel whole again.
Rex tossed the ball into the surf, watching the sun setting beyond the horizon as Bond and McClane bounced in the waves trying to retrieve it. He hadn’t been out with the dogs much. Every time he’d tried, they’d lost interest quickly. He wasn’t the only one missing Lacey.
Todd the Neanderthal hovered over him constantly, making it impossible for Rex to sort out his thoughts and feelings about Lacey leaving him. At least tonight he’d managed to convince Todd to hover from the deck. For the first time in a while, he felt like he had a little breathing room. He’d thought it was bad when Lacey was here doing the same thing as Todd, but he’d been mistaken.
One of the many things he’d been wrong about concerning her.
He sighed, trying to force the painful thoughts of how much he missed her out of his mind, but failing miserably. His hurt only grew. His every waking thought was consumed by memories of her scent, her laugh, her smile, her kiss, her body melting around his…
He didn’t know how to shake this feeling of… Damn it. What was the feeling consuming his soul?
Every facet of his life seemed to be missing a piece of Lacey. Work wasn’t the same without her nearby watching over him. Home wasn’t the same without her sarcasm and humor. His bed was lonely and cold even though she’d never actually warmed his sheets. He’d been with her elsewhere and wished he’d had the chance to bring her into his bed too, to invite her into his most private space, where he’d never welcomed anyone before.
His room was sacred—the only place where he felt he could truly be himself. As much as he talked a big game, he didn’t bring women home often. The odd occasion when he had, he’d stayed to the common areas of the house, not his private quarters. Lacey had only visited him there twice. He wished more than anything that he’d had the chance to invite her in again, so he could savor every aspect of her mind and body. Given the chance, he’d keep her there forever.
Forever?
Bond nudged his hand and he threw the ball without thinking.
Forever!
He was usually an in-the-moment kind of guy, but with Lacey the possibility of never seeing her again made his chest feel like it was stuck in a vice grip. However, the idea of her being with him forever made him feel at peace. It made his heart ache in a good way.
He’d never felt like this before.
Then again, he’d never met anyone like Lacey before either, never gotten to know someone on a level as deep as they knew each other. The times they’d had together were few, but important and impactful. Those times had exposed their vulnerable sides, but he’d been happy to share himself with her. Their conversations made him think about his life, how he lived it, and what he wanted in his future. She made him question everything he thought he knew.
He didn’t know everything there was to know about Lacey, but he wanted to learn it all. He didn’t want her to be some fleeting moment of fun like most women were in his life. He felt compelled to learn about her history, her dreams, her desires, and fears.
He could only think of one reason why he’d feel that way about her.
He loved her.
Hol
y shit.
It was terrifying and wonderful.
Rex sank to the sand and held the green ball Lacey usually tossed for the dogs. Bond and McClane trotted over and pawed at it, whimpering then sitting by his side.
“I know guys, I miss her too,” he said.
It didn’t have to be this way, he realized. It didn’t have to be just him and the dogs. If he worked hard enough, he could figure out a way to get her back into their lives. The question was how. What could he say or do that would make her realize he would do anything for another chance with her? A real chance this time, not some pretend roles they had to play for work.
He didn’t want Lacey—the bodyguard slash assistant.
He wanted his Lacey—the woman who’d somehow stolen his heart.
There was one way he could think of to get a message to her even if she was unreachable. He’d use his celebrity privilege to win her back.
“Don’t worry guys,” he said, stroking the dogs’ heads. “I’ll bring her home.”
17
Rex had been looking forward to, and dreading, this last TV appearance all week. The audience would be a mix of critical and adoring. The interviewer was bound to ask difficult questions about his mishap with the photographer along with questions about the film. No matter how much he convinced himself it would all be okay, he knew this one would suck. He was as ready as he could be. This was his last chance to promote the film and he needed to be charismatic.
More importantly, it could be his only chance to reach Lacey.
He hated having to do this so publicly, but she hadn’t left him any other choice. She’d called Gabe to complain about Todd, so that told Rex she must still be keeping tabs on him, even peripherally. His only hope right now was that she’d see this interview, or clips from it, and listen to what he said. The private life he desperately protected had to be thrown to the side to win her back. It was the only way.
“Rex, we’ve been talking a lot about your movie which opens nationwide today, but there’s something else we need to address.”
Rex nodded. This was it. He didn’t want to discuss the confrontation, but it was better to get it over with instead of letting rumors continue to spiral out of control.
“Recently there was an incident.” The interviewer paused dramatically. “An altercation that left a photographer with stitches. I think we’ve all heard his side of the story, that the attack, as he’s calling it, was unprovoked. We’d like to hear your side.”
He did his best to appear remorseful. He was, to a degree, but he also knew that the photographer had been out of line with his questions and had pushed Rex to a breaking point. It wasn’t exactly acceptable to punch someone, but he hoped it was at least understandable.
“I’m glad you brought this up.” He wasn’t, but it was necessary. “It was not my best moment and unfortunately, as a celebrity, our moments are often on camera, whether we want them to be or not. This was one of those times where it would’ve been very nice to be someone else for the day.”
“Because you’re a celebrity, what happened is okay?”
“No. That’s not what I’m saying.” He sighed. Time to rip the bandage off this old wound and bleed a little for the press. It would hurt, but hopefully it would make things better in the end. “What happened that day was completely unacceptable, and I’ve already settled with the photographer privately to cover his medical expenses, damages to his personal property, and any time he may miss from work.”
There were nods of agreement. “However, that doesn’t explain the why behind what happened. I’m sure most of you are at least a little familiar with my brother’s accident a few years ago.” He paused to clear his throat, which suddenly felt tight. “Rowan and I had that special twin connection of always knowing what the other was feeling. The day he died, I felt like I’d lost a piece of myself. It was awful. Many days, it still is.”
“I’m sorry for your loss. He was a great actor, like yourself, and I’m sure he was an even better brother.”
Rex nodded, taking a second to steady his breath and his voice before speaking again. “Although his car accident was highly publicized, the root cause of if wasn’t. Most of you probably believe he was intoxicated and that’s why he hit a tree. But that’s not true. Yes, he’d had a drink that night, but he was far from drunk. The real reason he drove so fast and recklessly was because he was being chased.”
“Chased? By whom?”
Rex looked up and held the interviewers gaze, wanting the words to have maximum impact, the same way Rowan’s car accident had. “The paparazzi.”
There was a collective gasp that rippled through the audience, followed by a murmuring of whispers.
“Why was this never investigated? Or talked about in the press?”
“Because it was the press who were at fault. Not all of them, but enough that Rowan felt he had to get away. They’d been hounding him for weeks after his movie tanked. He was fed up and wanted to leave a restaurant without being hassled. They cornered him, forcing him to jump in his car and speed off. When they followed, he went faster. Then he took a corner too fast and lost control.”
“That’s awful.”
“As much as I want to put the past behind me, I can’t. Every time I’m hounded by photographers, I remember what they inadvertently did to Rowan. I’m usually pretty good at not letting it bother me, but the other day, that photographer asked the wrong question and mentioned my brother. When he got in my face, I felt cornered.”
He sighed and sat forward, holding his head in his hands for a moment before looking up and at the audience. “I panicked and reacted without thinking. That’s no excuse, but it is my reason.”
The audience was silent.
“Wow. I think we all have a better understanding of the situation and why it happened.”
“There’s more,” Rex added. This next part was even more important to say, but also harder than talking about his brother’s death.
“Go ahead.”
“My brother’s death wasn’t the only reason I reacted that way. Since his death, I haven’t felt like a whole person. There was a piece of me missing. That changed recently. I’m sure you’ll all remember the name Lacey and the other reason I was on a bunch of magazine covers with her.”
There was a lot of giggling in the room. An image of Lacey’s breast filled his mind and he hated that everyone else had an image of her in their minds too.
“What happened to her? One day she was your assistant and always by your side, and the next, she was gone.”
His chest clenched. He’d never missed someone as much as he missed her. With any luck, she’d hear this interview and he wouldn’t have to miss her much longer. Hopefully this confession would be worth it in the end. At this point, he didn’t care how much his image suffered as long as he got a second chance with the woman he was pretty sure he’d fallen in love with. “She wasn’t my assistant. Lacey was my bodyguard.”
Lacey sat at the bar and sipped on a soda while waiting for her club sandwich and fries. It was the last meal she’d have in the States for a while. Her new job assignment in England was scheduled to go for a month, with the possibility of an extension or even turning into a permanent placement. Of course, that was if she could prove she was worthy of a full-time position.
She was already tired and sore, and she still had four hours until her delayed red-eye flight was scheduled to leave. Hopefully, it would be the only delay and not the first in a series. It would’ve been nice to know about the departure change before getting to the airport, not that she had anywhere better to be. Sitting around here reading was as good as sitting around somewhere else.
Everywhere in the airport, overhead TV monitors blared, drowning out the conversations of travelers. None of them aired anything interesting or entertaining. The one near her was some late-night talk show with celebrities, exactly what she didn’t want to watch.
“Our next guest is Hollywood’s favorite hunk, Rex Randall!
” the TV voice announced before a series of cheers went up from the studio audience.
She wondered if it was too late to cancel her order and find somewhere else to eat. Somewhere without a TV.
“Here you go,” the waiter said, setting down her sandwich. “Enjoy.”
“Thanks,” she mumbled.
She’d just have to ignore the TV interview with Rex long enough to scarf down her sandwich, then get the hell out of there. She flipped open her book, trying to concentrate on it instead of the television. The words blurred, and she couldn’t focus on the story. The only thing she could focus on was his voice and the pain blossoming in her chest while hearing it.
It was one thing seeing his pictures, but it was infinitely worse hearing his voice. Her heart broke over again. Missing him was more painful than anything she’d ever experienced.
“I think I know where you’re going with this.” Rex’s voice filtered through the air, sounding remorseful and hesitant, almost hurt.
It wasn’t his normal upbeat, charismatic, and arrogant voice. There was a tone she’d never heard before. Against her better judgement, she looked up at the TV. His expression was worse than his voice. The sadness in him was clear. But more than that was an appearance of being defeated. She’d never seen him look that way before.
Rex began telling the story of his brother’s death and no matter how much she didn’t want to listen, his sorrowful voice drew her in. She knew Rowan died in a car accident, and Rex mentioned that it was because his brother had been running away from the paparazzi, but hearing the details made the story even more heartbreaking.
Suddenly, it made sense why Rex was so adamant about standing his ground with photographers, why he insisted on not showing any sign of weakness around them, and why he didn’t make the most logical choices when it came to the press.
It was all because he was trying so hard not to follow in Rowan’s footsteps.
Regardless, Rex still had to learn to trust someone. If he could trust her enough to be physically intimate, then why couldn’t he trust her professionally too? Why hadn’t he been able to accept that she was good enough at her job to keep him safe? Why couldn’t he fathom that she was trained to put her life on the line to protect his, and that she wouldn’t hesitate to do it? Why couldn’t he comprehend that her ability to protect him wasn’t because he had a weakness to exploit?
Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology Page 120